


All the Stars in the Sea

by shslmonikakinnie



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Cottagecore, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Sick Komaeda Nagito, Slow Burn, komanami
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslmonikakinnie/pseuds/shslmonikakinnie
Summary: Nagito washes up on Chiaki's backyard beach so Chiaki takes him in. What happens next?
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito/Nanami Chiaki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 101





	All the Stars in the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first ship fic I've ever written, so I hope you like it! :)

The ocean rippled and faded as the wind softly sung. Chiaki sat on the back porch, cheeks resting in her palms, gazing up at the stars. It was a lonely life, out in the country, but quite the beautiful one. The stars twinkled and gazed back down at her, providing her a bit of company. She turned her gaze to the ocean, entranced by the waves crashing smoothly along the beach. Nature always had made itself her companion but she always desired more. Sure she had friends she could call, but they were usually busy with work or too far away. She stared up at the stars and admired their beauty, wishing for someone. The stars seemed to twinkle a bit brighter at her silent wish in response. Unfortunately, Chiaki was too mesmerized at the current moment to notice what was crashing up on the beach other than the waves. Perhaps she was too far away to take notice of the fragile boy that just washed up on shore, caught up in her own worries of loneliness and other such perils. Fortunately, she blinked and whisked away her thought along with her hair to discover the poor boy. Quickly getting up and dusting off her skirt, she rushed up to the boy to discover him unconscious, barely breathing. She put a hand on his shoulder, roughly shaking him.

“Sir? Sir!” She called.

No response, eyes sunken and his hair a mess. Chiaki was panicking.

“Oh god,” She breathed.

Chiaki picked up his wrist to check his pulse. It was faint. Too faint. And he was so cold as well, and so very pale, fragile as glass, almost as if he would break if lifted up. She started pressing her hands into his chest, waves still crashing, getting louder with each pump of her hands, the wind howling and mocking. The noise of the crickets surrounded her, taunting as her heart beat out of her chest. She kept pressing, up and down until the boy started coughing up saltwater.

“Mmm,” He breathed, rolling his head to the side.

Chiaki felt like she was going to cry. The boy breathed roughly, yet so quiet, his eyes still closed. His breaths reminded her of delicate sandpaper grazing her skin. Chiaki started to sob in relief, her own tears dropping onto his porcelain face. Carefully, Chiaki lifted an arm under him, hooking the other under his knees, eyes locked onto his face, fretting that he might wake. He was surprisingly light given his height although he was lanky and boney. It was terrifying how cold he was, on the brink of death, pale skin in the moonlight. She rushed up to the back porch, up to the red wooden door, crouching down to open it. She turned the knob and rushed in, placing the boy onto the small bed. The bed creaked and cried while Chiaki kept trying to keep her composure. The miserable boy was soaked as well, still refusing to wake up. Chiaki had healed before, but never something as dire as this. She promptly added more wood to the dwindling fire, letting it reemerge, hoping she could do the same for the boy. His clothes were utterly soaked as well, meaning poor Chiaki had to take them off. No matter though, it was not as much as a concern; she had no attraction to mortals previously, considering it was taboo, to say the least. Slowly discarding his vest and shirt, Chiaki tried not to think too hard about it. She spared him his underwear. Taking off the handkerchief in her hair, Chiaki did her best to wipe off the saltwater that painted his face before going off to fetch some towels.

\----------

Now that he was dried off, Chiaki could rest a little before wrapping him up in her handwoven quilts and blankets. Hopefully, that could warm him up a little bit. Chiaki checked the clock. One in the morning. Chiaki clicked her tongue and pulled up a chair by the bed, worried eyes tracing the boy’s face. She laid her arm down by the boy’s, resting her head upon it in an attempt to catch some sleep before he woke up, as her eyes slowly fluttered shut. His presence was strangely calming. The wind returned to a subtle singing breeze and the crickets quieted as the tide rolled out, allowing Chiaki to drift to sleep.

\-----------

She awoke to the local birds chirping their morning songs. It must have rained last night, she could feel the dampness coating the air, making it quite the muggy morning. Chiaki took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the boy, almost relieved to see him still asleep. Chiaki quietly got up to make breakfast. She was not sure what the boy would like for breakfast, but she did not want to wake him. Chiaki decided a meal of fluffy eggs, sausage and toast would work perfectly. Picking the eggs up out of the fridge, the smooth eggshell caught her eye. It reminded her of the boy in her bed, easy to break yet pretty in its own right. She shook her head and continued, turning on the gas stove and setting a pan on top. Whisking the milk and eggs together, Chiaki stopped to get the bread she baked last night out, cutting a fresh slice. She was proud of how it turned out, even though it was quite plain since the crust was just flakey enough and the dough rose wonderfully. Chiaki hoped the boy liked it, continuing to cut a couple more slices and adding the thick slices to the pan along with some butter. Chiaki added the kettle to the stove as well, deciding on the white peony tea she had been gifted the previous Christmas. Sliding the toast to the other end of the pan, Chiaki added another slice before grabbing another pan for the eggs. The butter sizzled beautifully and reflected the morning light, shaping Chiaki’s soft smile. She continued her delicate work, paying attention to the slight clink and clank of the pans and the crackle of the bread. Unknown to the kind girl, the boy had just woken up, eyelids fluttering open to find himself alive. It was quite a surprise to him, but he did not speak. His last memory was the ship going down, vicious waves crashing over him and the captain looking at him one last time. His breath was quickening, reliving the events. He did not want to worry the girl in the kitchen, she looked too gentle, so he decided to suffer on his own instead, he was used to it anyways. He decided to take a look around the cottage, looking at the dried herbs hanging up by the cabinets and the sunlight trickling in from the windows, catching the girl’s pale pink hair. He wondered if he was in heaven, but he was stopped from being in bliss for too long before a shiver ran up his spine. He cursed his luck with a smile before the shaking came. He tried curling up and ducking under the covers, but he burned all over and his muscles ached. “Ah!” Chiaki noticed the rustling coming from across the room. “Are you alright?” The boy looked up and nodded in response.

“I made some breakfast if you’d like,” Chiaki offered.

“Oh, thank you!” The boy thanked. “Ah, I’m afraid I didn’t get your name. I’m Nagito Komaeda. Nice to meet you!”


End file.
